


Intervene

by skylinesunflowers



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Late at Night, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylinesunflowers/pseuds/skylinesunflowers
Summary: A two-part about Russell and Elizabeth’s feelings after the Sit. Room intervention in “Sound and Fury”.
Relationships: Carol Jackson/Russell Jackson, Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord, Russell Jackson & Elizabeth McCord
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Elizabeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is totally my favorite episode, and I had to write a fic centered around it.

Elizabeth couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. _Shoveling horse crap in pigtails_. That wasn’t exactly the life she’d imagined for herself. But, she had been happy. Right?

Conrad, one of her oldest friends, had spat the words at her, as if it were something to be ashamed of. As if the glamorous life of politics was so much better than a horse farm in Virginia.

She let herself in, and Henry was waiting for her at his desk, peering at something through his glasses. Probably grading coursework, or something else.

He met her eyes with a slight smile. “How did it go?”

Elizabeth practically crumpled into his lap. Henry patted her back carefully, as if she was fragile. She swung her legs over his and shut her eyes.

“Not so well, I take it?”

“No.” She sighed. “He agreed. After telling Lydia that it was just politics, Russell that he’d handed the party ammo on a platter, and me that he saved me from shoveling horse crap.”

“Well,” he thought for a moment,” that’s not as bad as the Mr. President thing.”

“It still sucks.”

“I’m sure it does.” Now that was just patronizing.

She said so, and he laughed. Nobody at work had laughed in a few days. Nobody did during delicate situations like these. Elizabeth doubted anybody felt like laughing, anyways.

“Was it that bad, living at the farm?” The words were out of her mouth before she could consider them.

“No, babe, it wasn’t. The farm was perfectly fine, and you were happy. So was I,” he added at the pointed look she gave him. “We were all happy, and we’re happy here too. Just so long as we’re together.”

“I think the kids would beg to differ.”

“All three of the kids practically live at home. Ali’s the only one who doesn’t, and she still shows up at least four times a week.”

“Yeah, but … Conrad’s our friend. Was our friend. Is he our friend?”

“All right, that’s it.” Henry helped her back onto her feet and got up himself. “You need either ice cream or alcohol, and we won’t find any of that here.”

With a groan, Elizabeth trailed after him into the kitchen and took the proffered box of vanilla from his hands. “In two hours’ time, I’ll be crying in front of the television, and you know it.” She was only half joking.

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Henry said. “I hate to say this, babe, especially after what’s been happening with Conrad, but we’ve got to do something about the Jason situation.”

“ _We_? I think _you_ have got to do something. I, on the other hand, want to watch a movie.”

“Come on, Elizabeth. I’m not the only one who forgot to make him a memory book.”

She leaned forward against the counter and spooned some ice cream into her mouth. “Can’t we deal with this tomorrow? Or at least in a couple of minutes? I’m tired.”

Elizabeth forced a while into her last statement, hoping that he’d back off. Henry could be a little too hands-on at times, especially with Jason. Maybe because of Pat, but it was certainly his way of parenting. She preferred to be hands off. Maybe that was because of _her_ parents.

“Fine,” he relented. “But only because of how bad your night went.”

Swirling her spoon in the box, she frowned. “What he said to me wasn’t so bad. He called Russell a traitor and implied that Lydia was an … well, an idiot.”

“That’s true, but you still had it bad. Still, I’m glad he came around.”

She collapsed on the couch with a sigh, and Henry followed. He pressed a kiss to her hair and turned the television on.

“What’s it going to be tonight?” He patted her leg. “I’ll let you pick.”

She took the remote from his hand and flicked through all their options. Some documentary of previous presidents and the current one - _skip_. _Jurassic Park 2_ , no. _Star Wars: Return of the Jedi_. Well, it was the least crappy option so far.

The title song came on, and Elizabeth relaxed against Henry. “You know,” she started, turning to meet his eyes, “I’m really worried about Conrad. What if - what if he can’t return to office? It’s not that I don’t like Teresa, but … he worked so hard for this. And poor Lydia, she’ll be broken.”

“So will you. And, please don’t take this the wrong way,” he warned, “but so will you. He mentioned getting you off the farm, and you’re so worried that we hated it there. You hold his opinion, and him, pretty highly.”

“I’m worried about Russell, too.” She laughed. “I shouldn’t be worried for him. Who _really_ deserves my worry is the people who work for him.”

“He’d take it out on them,” she added impatiently when Henry gave her a blank look.

“Not so sure about that.” He tapped her on the nose. “He could internalize it, too.”

“Ugh, what the hell? Why’re we even thinking about Russell right now? I want to watch a crappy movie.”

“Star Wars is _not_ crappy. It explores the genuine realities of war.”

“Uh-huh. With laser guns.”

He nudged her gently, and, somehow, they were practically on top of each other, fighting over the remote and ice cream. She laughed, dealing a gentle blow to his arm.

“I yield, I yield,” she cried at last, unable to move for the shaking of her shoulders.

“I can’t be swayed so easily,” he growled playfully.

Elizabeth sobered up in seconds when she remembered. “What are we going to do about Jason?”

Henry sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to remember. Come on. I’ll dig the photos out from my wallet.”

He rubbed her shoulders and got up reluctantly. She cursed her mind for a moment. Could she have saved the realization for an hour, when the movie had gotten sufficiently boring? Or better yet, for tomorrow.

That wasn’t fair to Jason, and Elizabeth knew it. She just couldn’t stop stewing over Conrad.

Glancing into her kitchen, where Henry dug past keys for his wallet, she smiled. Even if her job was gone tomorrow, she still had her family. She still had Isabelle, and even Aiden and his kids. There was always Mike B., if she was really desperate. No, scratch that. Not even in desperation.

Elizabeth managed a faint smile. Even if Conrad was gone, and she would be sad to see him go, she had a life outside the State Department. A most fulfilling, wonderful life.

She probably wouldn’t help but miss it, either way.


	2. Russell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm really sorry.

Russell stayed until he was absolutely sure he couldn’t. He waited for Stevie to take off, waving at him as she took her coat, and Adele, who gave him a much more stoic goodbye. He preferred the latter, but he figured he owed Stevie a bit of leeway.

He had to admit, it was a little painful in the Sit. Room. Probably more so for Elizabeth, who was facing one of her oldest friends, but it was for him, too. Yeah, Russell could admit it to himself. He had a heart.

He put the folders he was holding on the kitchen table, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Was Carol supposed to be home by now, or did she have a late appointment? Perfect. He'd forgotten. What politics did to a marriage, he'd never forget.

The door to her office opened, and she came out with her cup of coffee. "You're home late. Again. At least tell me that this was old paperwork."

"The President," he said. "Bess and I had to do something."

"Let me guess," Carol said, leveling him with an unimpressed look. "You can't tell me."

Russell winced. ""No, I can't."

"Fine. Was it likely to get your blood pressure up?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Who am I kidding? Of course there was. Fine. Take your meds, at least."

Carol turned on her heel, probably to go back to the bedroom, and he sank into a chair. Russell must've looked extra pale or something, because she rushed over to him almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked sharply. "Are you short of breath, or nauseous?"

"No, sweetheart," Russell said through gritted teeth. "I'm tired, and I have a headache."

She pulled out the chair closest to him and sat down. "Well, that's not ideal."

"Occupational hazard of working at the White House. Keeping the world safe and whatnot. Like the Avengers."

Carol snorted. "I don't believe you. The Avengers? Try Ultron."

She'd taken their grandson to see each one of the movies, and had, apparently, retained some knowledge. Russell smiled despite himself.

"Fine. You're the Avengers. I'm just a coffee-fueled hatchet man. Iron Man, if you will." His voice betrayed mirth.

"Are you sure you feel all right?" Carol smiled. She looked pretty when she smiled, and so much younger. Not that he was about to say that to her. Being a pediatric surgeon was a good enough excuse to look older.

"Yes, honey, I'm sure. I'm taking my beta blockers; I'll be fine." Now wasn't a good time to bring up the fact that she monitored his diet so closely, he was practically a rabbit.

Gently, Carol rubbed his arm. "Okay. I'm going to bed. I have an early morning." She kissed him and got up. "Come to bed soon."

"And if the President decides he needs me?"

"The President can wait." That was said with an even brighter smile.

Russell checked his watch. He could call Bess in the morning, and check in with her. Make sure she was operating at full force. Dalton had his exam in the evening, and he could join Lydia to gather the results.

For now, bed sounded like a good idea.


End file.
